


Songs of the Sapphire Isle

by museme87



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 07:08:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1931403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/museme87/pseuds/museme87
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my Jaime/Brienne drabbles and ficlets. All one-shots unless otherwise noted.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Three Decisive Battles in the Riverlands during the War of Conquest by Brienne Tarth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chinko-kun on tumblr prompted: Jaime/Brienne, teacher/student, fluff, bullying/conflict management

Pausing in front of the half-opened door, Brienne slowly adjusts the strap of her bag—heavy with library books from her dissertation—and tries to muster the courage to make herself known. Professor Lannister is not but a few feet in front of her, too focused on searching for something on his messy desk to notice her. Worrying her lip, she hoists the strap further up on her shoulder and raises her hand to knock. But before she manages it, Professor Lannister looks up, his glasses sitting low on his nose. 

"Brienne," he says, pushing his glasses back to their normal position. "What brings you by?" 

"I just stopped to pick up a few library books that are coming due," she explains, a touch of nervousness in her voice, as she gestures with her thumb to her shared office down the hall. "Since I won't be needing them anymore." 

"Yes, I believe congratulations are in order. Catelyn was very pleased with your defense." 

Brienne finds herself blushing at his kind smile. Since she first began her doctoral program at King's Landing University, Lannister has had this effect on her, though it has only grown more acute in time. She picks at the hem of her worn and lumpy sweater, the ends of her sleeves pulled halfway up her palms as they typically are when she's feeling insecure. A lock of hair comes loose from behind her ear as she rolls on the balls of her feet. 

Somehow the thanks that she owes Lannister never comes, but she does manage a small nod that she hopes shows her gratitude. It occurs to her that her inability to form half an intelligent thought in his presence may have had something to do with her earning an A- in his class. 

"I just—" she begins in a rush when her throat feels slightly less dry. "That is, I just wanted to thank you. For sticking up for me at the Grievance Committee meeting, I mean." 

Lannister walks casually around his desk, leaning on its edge to observe her more closely. Her tendency to be completely unclear and flustered around anyone who isn't a peer or hasn't mentored her has always been a source of amusement for him. _Gods_ , she thinks, _he must wonder how I ever passed my defense_.

"Connington is a bastard," he says, folding his arms across his chest. "With the number of absences he accrued, he should have been embarrassed to file a grievance with Bolton in the first place. You were more than fair with him." 

She smiles to herself, flattered. Brienne has always considered herself a good instructor—well, as good an instructor as any doctoral candidate can be in the middle of her dissertation—but it's reassuring to hear it from a professor who she holds in such high regard. She had initially applied to King's Landing in hopes of studying under Lannister, one of the foremost scholars of Aegon's Conquest. Her interests may have drifted a little to the martial history of the Riverlands and Stormlands specifically, but she had never stopped respecting his work—or him—from afar. 

"Also, I wanted to let you know that I'll be at Storm's End next term as a visiting professor," she says, tucking her hair behind her ear.

His expression shifts to one of pleasant surprise. "Well done. I had no idea. Catelyn had mentioned you were planning on adjuncting here for a year." 

She shrugs, the wide neck of her sweater slipping just over her shoulder. "I just found out yesterday." 

"These halls won't be quite the same without your dowdy sweaters and hunched form, Brienne," he says, playfully. "But Storm's End is lucky to have you." 

She does manage a meek thank-you at that and makes some excuse about having to get to the library. She's nearly halfway down the hall before she stops and takes a deep breath. Before she can think better of it, she walks quickly back to Lannister's open door and pops her head in. 

"Professor Stark is having a get-together for me at The Blackwater on Friday," she says, their eyes meeting. "If you're able to make it, I'd like that." 

He grins at her. "I think I can manage to pencil you in."


	2. the fell clutch of circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-ADWD. After Lady Stoneheart's demise, Jaime tries to help Brienne make peace with her decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been sitting on this one for ages. This ficlet was meant to be part of a five-times series focusing on late-night conversations between Jaime and Brienne, but this was all I managed at the time. However, I'm very proud of it, and it may be my favorite piece I've written about J/B to date.

She sits on the trunk of a fallen tree in front of the fire, her hulking frame still as if she’d froze to death since he last saw her. Jaime regrets leaving their make-shift shelter the moment the cold snaps at his exposed skin. He pulls his cloak tighter around his neck and presses forward, despite himself, his boots sinking into the accumulating snow. Before he’s upon her, he sees her blanket discarded in a pile at her feet and snow dusting her broad shoulders. She’ll die out here, and he has half a mind to let her, Seven be damned. 

And yet he doesn’t because he knows what it means to lose the one thing you’ve lived your life by. He, his sword hand. And she, her honor. Brienne had forced him to come back to his senses then, and Jaime thinks he owes it to her to return the favor. 

When he reaches her, he picks up the blanket before sitting. Brienne offers him the quickest of wounded glances and returns to her sulking in the firelight. It’s clear to him that his company is not welcome, not wanted, which somehow hurts more than he cares to consider. He thought of her enough during their time apart, was pleased to have her return to him at Pennytree, and was eager to be on the road with her again, for all that it took him by surprise. By sheer accident, Brienne has somehow become a fixture in his life, so her obvious rejection now cuts him. He thinks of throwing the blanket at her head and leaving her to her sorrows and stubbornness; he had before, but the blanket was a pillow, the surroundings far more gilded, and the woman—just a girl then—far more beautiful. 

The flicker of the memory stays his hand, and instead of tossing it, he clumsily drapes it over her shoulders. The gesture wins him another look, longer this time but no less heavy. Brienne then secures it about her with one freckled hand. Jaime thinks he sees her nod slightly in gratitude, but concedes that it could just be his imagination yearning for any response. When nothing more comes from her, Jaime sighs, his breath frosty. 

“Sometimes I forget how very young you are.” 

She says nothing at first, her eyes too busy chasing the small flames of her fire. And when he all but gives up hoping that she might respond, Brienne takes him by surprise. 

“I am a woman grown, ser,” she says, her voice soft and hoarse. 

He could laugh at her for that. Would have, maybe, not so long ago when he hardly knew her. She had been a babe at her lady mother’s breast while he was serving in the Kingsguard, after all. And while she had more reason than most to learn of life’s harsh realities, she seemed to have never taken those lessons to heart. Always so naïve, believing in a world with a stark contrast between good and evil, right and wrong. A place where knights were honorable and ladies were true. A place like in the songs she must have learned in girlhood. 

And now that world is slowly unraveling before her. 

Brienne thinks she’s done wrong by him. As if he couldn’t tell something was amiss long before she led him directly to the remnants of Catelyn Stark. And Jaime knows why she did it, knows how much her young squire means to her. He holds no grudge against her; he knows what it is to make the hard decisions. If anything, he’s only sorry Brienne was forced to compromise her sense of honor. People like Brienne don’t exist much anymore, which is an unfortunate thing. Westeros could use more people like her to balance out those who are so much more like him. 

“I forgive you,” he says, daring to place his hand on her shoulder before pulling back, unsure of himself. “Brienne, if it’s forgiveness you need, it’s yours.” 

He doesn’t add that he doesn’t feel wronged; she wouldn’t hear of it. Better to play along with her rendition of the story than alienate her further. His time with her is short, he knows, and Jaime has no desire to leave her on uncertain terms. 

She remains silent, despite his gesture. He can’t blame her and doesn’t try to force her. She’s too stubborn to come around before she’s ready. And so Jaime stands, knowing well when the battle is lost. But before he takes his leave of her, he reaches out to gently squeeze her shoulder in reassurance. Brienne looks up at him sharply, startled, and Jaime remembers in that moment just how astonishing her eyes are, especially in the firelight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated.


End file.
